Land of Fiction Book One -Strangers in London
by xXClaraOswaldXx
Summary: The TARDIS crash lands in a parallel universe, where all books are a reality. There the Doctor and Clara meet a pair of strangers in 221B Baker Street. Only after tracing them back to their home do Clara and the Doctor realize who these people really are. When Mycroft Holmes is brainwashed and kidnaps Clara the unlikely trio will have to team up to stop him.
1. Time Crash

_Chapter 1 - Time Crash_

_Clara Oswin Oswald_

"Where are we off to today?" I muse aloud, studying the Doctor as he tries to manage flying the TARDIS. I can still remember learning how to fly a TARDIS at Time Lord University from when one of my fragments was a Gallifreyian.

"How would you like to go and see the Big Bang?" The Doctor asks as he dances around the TARDIS flicking switches and pushing buttons.

"Isn't that a little far back in time for this Old Girl?" I wonder, as she secretly pushed a button to stop the TARDIS from rocking back and forth as the Doctor flew through time and space.

The TARDIS console flashes angrily (if an a light in the middle could flash and look angry).

"Hey, the TARDIS is not an old girl." The Doctor chastises me.

"She's the same age as you are! That's what, 2000 and something odd years old?" I pull a lever to turn off the parking brake and stop the TARDIS from making its loud wheezing noise.

"I'm only 1946, for your information." The Doctor corrects me as I roll my eyes at him. "Can you stop fiddling with my TARDIS? That is my job. It makes me look clever."

"What are you talking about? I haven't touched the console." I lie crossing my fingers behind my back.

The Doctor looks at me in the eye. "Liar. I can see you crossing your fingers and the TARDIS isn't making its noise."

I sigh, caught in the act. I decide to play dumb, just to annoy him and say, "What noise are you talking about?"

"You know the one when it takes off and lands? It goes oo wee oo, oo wee oo. You know the one that I'm talking about! You hear it everyday."

"Oh, that one. That's only because you leave the parking brakes on."

"Yes I know I've been told by my wife." The Doctor whined. "Now turn it back on for landing."

"No."

"Clara..."

"No. The TARDIS is like a manual car. You do not leave the parking break on when you drive a manual car do you?"

"No I do not, but I leave the parking break on in my TARDIS because it is my TARDIS and you can't control it because you aren't my wife!"

Not yet, Clara thought, she could almost picture them getting married. It would be lovely, her bouquet could be TARDIS blue and so could the bridesmaid dresses. Unfortunately, the Doctor didn't seem interested in her. Only in River Song.

"Well Chin, the total screaming genius in me thinks otherwise." I snap

"That was very Oswin Oswald of you." The Doctor mumbles, he doesn't like it when I channel the attributes of her fragments.

"Thank you."

"I don't like it. It makes you seem very cocky."

"Sorry, next time I'll try and find a modest way to say I was a total screaming genius that was just a tiny bit sexy." I say sarcastically rolling my eyes.

The Doctor stared me right in the eye and I glared at him right back.

Do. Not. Blink. I think as I concentrate all of my efforts on winning this staring contest.

We both break into spiels of loud laughter before anyone can be declared a winner.

I wipe a tear from my eye as the Doctor fixed his hair, he could stand if there was a single cowlick, and being doubled over in two, it's kind of inevitable.

"I need a fez, like I really need one." The Doctor states, his face deadpan and one hundred percent serious.

"No you really do not." I retort.

"I want one though." He moaned.

"If you wear one, River is going to come back from the dead and shoot every fez that you wear. Just like she said she would." I inform him solemnly before I break into giggles again.

I compose myself and ask, "ETA?"

"Five minutes."

"Wow, we must be going way back in time, the TARDIS usually just disappears and reappears instantaneously." I say.

"Well like you said, way back in time, to the big bang, but not before because then we would be stuck there with the Kin. A monster who doesn't really like me. He's waiting for the world to begin so it can take over the universe but since he is the second before the big bang. It won't exactly happen." he explains.

I look at him as if he had three heads. "Okay, then."

The Doctor smiles at me and pulls the parking brake on.

I sigh as she took a seat. There was just no way to win against him. After a minute of silence (well, as silent as it can be with a TARDIS and a Doctor running around to press buttons), I ask, "Why do you want to see the big bang if you have seen it already?"

"I figured you would want to see it." he replied with a shrug.

"I find everything inside and outside this spaceship." I said, adding especially you in my head. "Still, why the big bang and not some foreign planet that you haven't visited yet?"

"I've visited every planet." the Doctor declares.

I scoff, unbelieving. There were probably a billion billion planets there was no way he had seen them all.

"Okay fine, I haven't seen all of them. Just most of them." the Doctor corrected.

"You're avoiding my question Doctor."

"Okay fine. I wanted to take you back to the big bang so I could look all clever when I was explaining everything that happened and what it would cause."

"Trying to impress me then Chin?"

He huffs, "No…"

"How much longer?" I whine, like a child. I wasn't used to having to wait to go somewhere in the TARDIS. Usually, I would just say 'I want to go here' and seconds later they would be there. "This waiting sucks."

"Oh Clara, the waiting has only just begun. You have a lot of waiting still to do."

I raise an eyebrow at him, "What do you mean?"

"Well my explanations tend to be very longwinded and boring."

"Oh so you admit it yourself." I chuckle. I was well aware of this fact but I found it comical that he knew too.

"Of course, I know that I can be boring. What do you think I do when I am bored. I talk to myself."

"Crazy person." I mutter under my breath.

"I heard that." He says pushing one last button before swirling around to face her.

The TARDIS shook and fire blows from the centre of the console.

"Oh my stars we are going to die." I screech, grabbing on to one of the poles around the outside of the TARDIS.

"My TARDIS!" The Doctor screamed.

I shake my head, nice to know he cared more about the TARDIS then himself or his companion..

The TARDIS impacts the ground with a large bang, that sends the two of us flying.

"Doctor what happened?"

"I don't know. I think that the TARDIS fell through the sky."

"You mean into the void."

"Or through it." the Doctor mumbles.

"What's out there?" I ask tentatively.

"Could be anything, the only way to know would be to open the door." the Doctor says before turning the handle.


	2. A Big Blue Box?

Chapter 2 - A Big Blue Box?

_John Watson_

_Bang! Bang!_ I am rudely awakened from my sleep by loud gunfire in the flat. I lift up my pillow to grab my handgun. The last thing I needed this morning was to be shot by one of Moriarty's goons.

With my finger over the trigger and the gun steadied, I gently push open the door. Ready to fire should I need to defend myself or Sherlock.

The gun fires again, it's being fired from the living room.

I quietly sneak down the stairs, and sharply turn the corner hiding behind the wall so that the intruder couldn't see me.

I charge through the door, gun raised and ready to fire.

Only to take Sherlock by surprise.

I throw down my gun in exasperation, "What the hell Sherlock?!"

He fires another two rounds at the wall behind me, "Bored."

I cover my ears, "Can you stop?"

"Bored." he moaned again. Firing three shots into yellow face he had drawn on the wall.

"Sherlock. Stop or I will come over there and make you!" I warn, bracing myself to knock the gun out of his hand.

Mrs. Hudson, pushes open the door, "Sherlock! What do you think you are doing?"

"Bored." he explains. Firing at the wall from behind his back. Why he feels the need to show off his shooting skills I do not know. Some of his explanations make people feel like they've been shot in the head.

I swipe the gun out of his hand while he is momentarily distracted. Chastising Mrs. Hudson for reading some book she shouldn't or something.

"I can tell that you have been reading that book I told you not to, Mrs. Hudson. What was it 'Fifty Shades of Grey'? It is a horrible book used to make older women think of 'kinky' ideas that would make her life so much better. You're pupils are dilated which indicates sexual attraction, and it wouldn't be to me or John because that would be pedophilia. So that means that you were doing so something that caused you to become sexually engaged, something like reading erotica." Sherlock says.

"Or maybe her pupils are dilated because of fear, there was someone shooting a gun in her house!" I shout, "Jesus Sherlock, there are other ways to entertain yourself."

"Like what John?" he snaps, "I've tried all of your ordinary ideas, but they are only entertaining to normal people."

"Did you want me to bring up Clue for you boys to play?" Mrs. Hudson asks.

"Mrs. Hudson! I am trying to have a conversation with my colleague John! i would appreciate some quite!" Sherlock shouts, causing Mrs. Hudson to scurry away in fright.

I check my watch. It's two in the bleeding morning.

Sherlock dramatically throws himself in his chair. "I'm so bored John. There hasn't been an interesting client for weeks John."

I lower myself into my chair, and glare at him. "The last client we had was yesterday, Sherlock."

"Was that an interesting client? No, obviously not because I can't remember them!"

"You probably deleted it to make room for something in your 'mind palace'."

"Perhaps. What was the problem again?"

My jaw drops. He could really be so stupid sometimes. "It was the case of the geek interpreter."

"The what?"

I shake my head, stunned, and hand him his laptop.

"What is this for?"

"Read the blog, Sherlock. Read the bloody blog."

I get up to head back to bed, knowing it is unlikely that I will be able to fall asleep again.

A strong gust of wind blows through the flat.

"John, window." Sherlock says as he scrolls through the information on my blog.

I go and check the window, not remembering leaving it open.

"Locked."

Sherlock looks up, "Where is the wind coming from?"

A loud screeching noise echoes around us. I can't find a way to describe it. It was somewhat like a wheezing.

"Sherlock? What the hell are you doing?"

He stands up, and walks beside me. "I'm not doing anything."

I lift my left hand to put it in front of me. I try to push forwards but I can't.

Something is there.

I frantically push at mid-air, trying to prove to my mind that there is nothing there, and that I am only imagining it.

"Sherlock, what the hell is happening?" I ask as I stumble backwards away from the area.

"I don't know."

"You don't know! YOU! You don't know?!" I panic.

Sherlock puts both hands against the air and when he does it turns blue. The whole thing is a big blue box.

"It's you you're doing this!" I shout.

"I am not, John. How could I be doing this? I know you think of me as inhuman but I am just a human. It's not like I have special powers." He mocks me.

We both take a step back to absorb what had just appeared in our living room.

It was a big, blue box.

"It's a police box." I mumble in fascination.

"This type of police box was only introduced to London at the earliest 1928." Sherlock says as he walks around it. "But they were phased out in 1970. This shouldn't be possible."

I shake my head, "Let me get this straight. You are confused because there is a police box in 2014 because they shouldn't exist anymore."

"That is correct."

"Not because a police box just suddenly appeared inside out flat. Out of nowhere! It just materialized."

"Oh, that too."

That was when the door swung open.

A man in a tweed jacket and a bowtie stumbled out.

Only to trip and fall face first onto the floor.

I grabbed my gun and pointed it at his head.

A female voice rang from the inside of the police box. "Doctor are you okay? Is it safe out there?"

"I'm okay Clara." he looks up, "I think that we are in someone's flat, and they do not look to pleased to see us."


	3. Deductions

Chapter Three - Deductions

_Sherlock Holmes_

"Stand up slowly and put your hands behind your head." John shouts, he was obviously showing his soldier side. Trying to look all tough. What a human thing to do. When you meet someone who you have no idea who they are, you try to show them the best side of you. Or the one that is most suited to the time. If it were me I would be trying to determine everything about the person, then I wouldn't need to act all scary.

The man stands up awkwardly, he is very long and lanky, with legs and arms that are almost disproportionate to the rest of his body. He is also extremely skinny, which leads me to the conclusion that he does a lot of exercise. From his stature it wouldn't be anything with weights, he is not muscular enough. Therefore, he must do cardio exercises, such as running. Ah, yes. Running, a man who is always on the run, he's running from something, or perhaps towards something.

"Is there someone else in that box with you?" John asks, keeping the gun pointed at the man's head, ready to fire should he make a wrong move.

"Obviously, there was a distinctly female voice that asked him whether it was safe for her to come out or not. He called her Clara and she called him the Doctor." I say, John's eyes shifted over to me momentarily. I think that the look on his face was surprise, but then again human emotions are not my specialty.

"Clara, step out of the police box with your hands in the air." John demanded.

A short girl, 1.57 metres to be exact, cautiously stepped out of the blue police box. I studied her closely. She had straightened brown hair and was wearing enough makeup to cover all of her flaws. Which means that she was trying to impress someone, likely the Doctor but could be another man. She was obviously not used to stepping out of the police box, because the look of surprise on her face meant that she was not where she was before.

The box travelled through space.

However, there was something wrong, the man called the Doctor looked nervous, and it wasn't because there was a gun pointed at his head. Something had gone wrong in their travel. The way that he kept looking at her out of the corner of his eye showed that he was worried about her reaction. So they weren't where they should have been. By the way he dresses I can tell that he has a childish personality and enjoys taking people on adventures.

So the box could travel through space and likely time.

They clearly have the ability to travel through time because the man was wearing a watch on his wrist, so that it faced him should he lift his hand. This shows that it was often checked to determine the time, date, month and year of wherever the place they are in may be.

"Time And Relative Dimension In Space. TARDIS if you will." I say.

They both look taken aback and John just looks at me in confusion.

"What do you mean?" John asks me, lowering his gun as he turns to face me.

"I mean, that if you opened up your funny little ordinary brain to different possibilities like I have, what the machine is should be blatantly obvious." I explain, clasping my hands behind my back and pacing while I talk. "This ship has taken the shape of a London police box from around the 1960's, obviously John it is not the 1960's which means it can travel through time to the present moment, where police boxes should not exist. The girl Clara, looked surprised to step out into a London flat which means that they were not where they were before. That would be the elementary explanation."

I turn around to face them and all of their jaws are hanging open.

"Relative Dimension In Space?" John asks.

"It means that it can move in space, John." I whisper in his ear as I walk past.

"I still don't understand."

"Of course you don't John. In your funny little brain you don't understand much." I head to the kitchen and check on the eyeballs in the microwave.

"Woah, woah, woah. Did you say John?" Clara asks.

"I did. That would be his name." I mumble when I come back in. Ordinary people, you need to repeat things two or three times for them to understand.

"That would mean, no, it can't be, it's not possible. Is it?" The Doctor says. He runs past John, down the stairs to the door.

"Hey I didn't say you could move!" John shouts as he runs after him.

"Are you going after him?" I ask Clara.

She looks at me as if I am daft, "Of course."

I trail behind her, as I watch her and the Doctor race outside. They must do this a lot, the energy that they run with shows that they enjoy exploring new things. Which would imply that John and I are new things. Just something that they discover on their adventures.

The Doctor throws open the door. "Oh my stars it is!" He grabs Clara's hands and jumps up and down, like a child given a new toy for Christmas. I'm a toy now, great.

"Clara do you know where we are?" he asks.

John and I stand in halfway up the stairs. It's unlikely that they would run away from our flat given that we have their TARDIS.

She cranes her neck to see the street name. "Baker Street." she looks at our flat number. "221B Baker Street. Oh my stars. We are at Sherlock Holmes' house!" She squeals and jumps to hug the Doctor.

"You act as if it is impossible." John states, they were pretty famous in London.

"Well, it is John Watson." Clara giggles as she says his colleague's name.

"Why would that be?" he asks.

"Care to handle this one Mr. Holmes?" the Doctor asks, winking at Clara. I conceive that this is probably the most exciting moment that he will ever have in his life.

I sigh, the one bad thing about being a genius is that people are always asking you to answer questions that they can answer themselves. "It is painstakingly obvious that they are from another dimension."

"What?" John questions, "How did they get here?"

"The TARDIS John. This time something went wrong, they weren't supposed to end up here. They were going some place where the Doctor could impress Clara. Perhaps that he sexually attracted to her, or is trying to make himself look clever."

John hits me on the arm. "Too far Sherlock."

I look towards the Doctor and Clara, they are both blushing and shuffling away from each other. Clara is surprised because she was unaware that her sexual attraction to the Doctor was mutual and the Doctor is embarrassed because he didn't want her to know. He also married, something that is clear from the way he looks at Clara. He looks at her with desire but has guilt in his eyes which suggests he is be cheating on his wife. However, the Doctor convinces himself that it's not cheating because his wife is dead.

"Sorry." I mumble, though I'm really not. What's the fun in knowing everything if you can't use it to embarrass people.

"It's okay, it's just something you do." Clara says as she nervously runs a hand through her hair.

"The attraction is not sexual, I just happen to enjoy her company." the Doctor claims.

I narrow my eyes at him, "And yearn for her intimacy."

John hits me again. "Sherlock!"

"Sorry." I apologize again.

John shakes his head, I almost think he is ashamed of me. It's like I'm his naughty puppy. "Continue."

"Anyway, something went wrong and they fell through another dimension. To them we are fiction, they fell into a land where fiction is reality. It's a parallel universe."

"How on Earth did you know that?" John asks.

"His bowtie." I say before heading upstairs, leaving the others behind me bewildered.

**AN: Hope you guys enjoyed! It's really weird writing as Sherlock because every single sentence has some sort of explanation in it and those explanations take forever! Sorry for the late update, I was out most of the day.**


	4. Not My Chair

Chapter Four - Not my chair

_The Eleventh Doctor_

I turn to Clara, "We just met Sherlock Holmes."

"I know!" She squeals back. She was so cute when she was excited about something that we had found.

John Watson looks at us confused, "So are you two fans or something?"

"I have read all the books." Clara explains.

"So have I, ten times." I say, one-upping Clara. I can see from the corner of my eye that she is scowling at me but I don't care. We just met a fictional character. And he deduced me!

"I think that I'm about to have a fangirl moment." Clara squeaks.

"A what?" I ask. I'm not all up to date with these things. It's really confusing you know, all of this new technology. I miss Rose's flip phone. It was so easy to use.

"A female fan." John mutters as he holds the door open for us to come in. "When they see what they love they freak out and tend to scream and squeal and drag people home with them.

I walk through the door and run up the stairs taking them two at a time. "Has that ever happened to you?"

"Yes. It happens to Sherlock more though."

"Wait, wait. Does he have the hat?" Clara asks as she follows behind me.

John shuts the door, "Of course he has the bloody hat, he Sherlock Holmes."

An elderly lady walks out a door at the bottom of the stairs. "Do you have visitors John?"

"Oh my stars it's Mrs. Hudson." Clara whispers in my ear after she reaches the top of the stairs. She smells too nice. It's not fair. She's just so perfect.

"Sort of." he replies, shepherding Clara and I into the living room.

"Mrs. Hudson. Make us some tea." Sherlock calls.

"I'm not your housekeeper, Sherlock." She chastises, but walking into the kitchen to do it anyway.

"If she's not their housekeeper why is she making them tea?" Clara asks me.

I shrug my shoulders. I never understood the methods of Mrs. Hudson.

Sherlock is inspecting the TARDIS.

I throw myself down in a chair and stretch my legs.

"Up, that's my chair." Sherlock informs.

Clara raises an eyebrow at him. I begrudgingly stand up and move to the chair across from Sherlock.

"That would be my chair." John says.

I roll my eyes and stand up again. "Then where am I supposed to sit?" I whine.

"Doctor, you're not two. You can stand." Clara orders. The way she talks to me, it would seem like she's my wife. Or my mother.

She's not though.

River is.

It would be cheating on her if I was in love with Clara.

Even if River is dead.

"I can pretty much hear the inner battle Doctor, if your wife is dead then it's just moving on." Sherlock states.

Stars, you can't hide anything from that man.

Clara leans against the wall, next to the yellow painted smiley face with bullet shots in it's head. "Should I even ask?"

John looks up to see what it is she's talking about. "No, you really shouldn't."

"I was bored." Sherlock explains, as if it justifies shooting the wall. To him it probably did.

"Are you done man handling my TARDIS now?" I ask.

"No."

"What are you doing Sherlock?" John wonders.

"Investigating." he replies.

"Pray tell what are you looking for?" John questions.

"I am trying to figure out how a box that is only 52.25 inches by 52.25 inches by 77.75 inches manages to hold two people, obviously a flight control console, and more." Sherlock dictates. "The only possible explanation would be that it's bigger on the inside but that would be impossible."

Clara and I share a look and she snickers.

"What are you laughing at?" Sherlock rounds on her.

"Your obliviousness." She states innocently.

"Excuse me. Me, oblivious. Sherlock Holmes. Oblivious?"

"Yep." She answers.

John chuckles.

"Why are you laughing?" Sherlock moans. Looks like he doesn't like to be the centre of a joke.

"You can be pretty stupid for a genius sometimes Sherlock." John mutters.

"Okay then Miss Oswald, tell me why I am being so oblivious." Sherlock demands.

"I can answer that for you." I input, "The door is open."

"Oh."

"Why didn't you check that first?" John asks shaking his head.

"Erm, I was trying to fit all the information in my mind palace. Had to delete a few things, your birthday was one of them." Sherlock explains.

Clara walks to the TARDIS and pushes open the door.

Locked.

"I thought you said it was open." John mocks.

"It is. It's the stupid cow that hates me and won't let me in." Clara shouts as she kicks the front door.

"Well how do you expect her to like you if you keep kicking her?" I ask.

Clara rolls her eyes. I walk forwards and push open the doors.

We all head inside.

"Oh my god. It's bigger on the inside." John mumbles.

"But that's illogical!" Sherlock screeches before he runs around the outside of the TARDIS and comes back in.

I look at him expectantly.

"What?"

"Everyone has to say it." I state.

"But I don't want to." He whines like a child.

Clara puts her hand on his shoulder. "Just get it over with."

"Fine."

I smile.

"Oh look. It's bigger on the inside." Sherlock says and runs to the TARDIS console to investigate.


	5. Get Sherlock

Chapter Five - Get Sherlock

_Jim Moriarty_

I lie in bed thinking of all the things I could do to destroy Sherlock.

It's been a while since I last saw him, maybe about three hundred hours, and now I'm bored.

The ultimate challenge, staying alive in a world of goldfish.

The last time I played with Sherlock I nearly blew John up. Hehe, oops, I guess that wasn't very nice. Now I need a bigger and better way to destroy him.

My first plan, that I have spent forever thinking out is to destroy his reputation. Wouldn't that be fun? The great detective, the super sleuth found out to be an absolute liar!

I chuckle sinisterly. Oh the things I could do.

What is something that Sherlock loves more than anything in the world?

John Watson.

What would Sherlock do to protect him?

Sherlock would die.

I could turn him into an ordinary person and cause his death by threatening all the people he cares about the most.

John Watson, Mrs. Hudson, DI Lestrange.

Sherlock would do anything to protect them, even commit suicide. I would need to get a team together.

I have the people so it wouldn't be extraordinarily difficult.

That's plan one. Still has some kinks in it that I need to work out, I need to wait for the perfect time to do it.

I need to get Sherlock.

I roll off of my bed and stride to my computer.

"What are you up to today? Mr. Holmes, are you doing something interesting?" I ask aloud. No one else is here.

Well, there are people keeping tabs on me in my cozy little jail cell, but I'm pretty much alone. As a consulting criminal, all of my guards are terrified of me.

One little phone call, and I could get the most well trained assassin in the world.

Or, I could get Houdini, break out of my cell with his instructions.

Did no one tell you?

He's not dead.

He is locked up in my cellar, trying to break the world record for fastest escape from a straight jacket.

Easy enough to keep him there, I have a his family at gunpoint in the room next door.

The straightjacket is just for my entertainment.

I open the application that will allow me to spy on Sherlock Holmes. I've got cameras all over his house. Anyone that goes in there has some relation to me and they always do what I say.

Camera in the right eye of the painted smiley face, camera in the tooth of the skull, camera in John's chair. My cameras are everywhere!

Unnoticable, undetectable, completely reliable.

Anderson wouldn't even be able to find them on a drugs bust.

Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock what do we have here?

In the corner of camera one and camera three I can see a blue police box. How did he get that in 221B Baker Street?

I open camera four, in the centre of the fireplace. Ha, front view of the police box.

Now I just need to wait.

I kick my feet up on the desk and wait for something to happen.

Sure enough, in ten minutes, fifty two seconds and three milliseconds. The door is opened.

I twitch, the door is being opened inwards. That's not the right way. There's a sign on the front door that says pull to open. Police box doors open outwards. Someone has been ignoring that sign.

I zoom the camera in, the interior is quite expansive. If it wasn't impossible I would say it's bigger on the inside.

Sherlock walks out, followed by a twenty seven year old female. Unfamiliar. John is third and the last man out is a tall, lanky man with a tweed jacket and a bowtie.

He closes the door behind him.

As I reach to turn up the volume, the bars on my cell are rattled.

"Mr. Moriarty, we are going to have to ask you to turn the computer off." One of the security guards states.

I remain fixated on the screen, there mouths are moving too fast for me to decipher what they are saying. "And if I don't?"

"We're going to have to put you down for the night."

"Put me down?" I ask sharply as I spin around in my chair. "If you lay a finger on me I will have the Golem come after you. He'll choke out every last breath you have, and snuff you out like a flame."

The man cowers backwards, but still remains brave, "You need to log off of the computer Jim Moriarty."

"No."

A loud alarm bell sounds everywhere in the jail. Hundreds of guards rush to my cell. Aw, that how sweet, they needs two hundred and sixty one guards to make me log off the computer.

"Mr. Moriarty, step away from the computer." The head guard demands.

Two hundred guns and sixty one guns click, ready to fire.

I sigh and roll my head in a small circle, "You humans are so PREDICTABLE! If one gets scared it calls more so that they don't die alone."

"Stand up and put your hands behind your head."

I oblige.

"We will be taking that computer away from you know Jim, and you'll never get to see it again." Four men come in and grab my laptop.

"Please, it's not that heavy." I say.

"It is for security purposes."

"You mean safety precautions." I correct the head guard.

He narrows his eyes at me.

The men walked out with the laptop, and the backup one under my bed.

"Have a nice night Mr. Moriarty." they all say at once.

I shudder, too much forced politeness.

I throw myself down on my bed.

Plan two, use Mycroft Holmes to get to Sherlock.

If I use Mycroft, then I can make Sherlock do whatever I want.

Including dying.

Oh wouldn't that be great! Forcing Mycroft to kill Sherlock. It would be fantastic. That would be the headline in every newspaper. 'Hat detective violently murdered by his brother Mycroft Holmes'.

It would be to perfect to imagine.

Sherlock's pressure point is John, so if John is held at the mercy of Mycroft, I can make him do whatever I want.

Or that girl in their flat, they must have some sort of attachment to her. By the way the man looks at her, they are obviously attracted. Use his pressure point to force John, thus forcing Sherlock.

Perfect.

Now I just need to make Mycroft do what I want.


	6. That's What You Think

Chapter Six - That's what you think

_John Watson_

"This is amazing," I say as I walk around the TARDIS, "It's so big!"

"Yep, kitchen that way. Choice of bathrooms there, there, there." the Doctor states as he points around to various hallways branching off from the centre console.

"I got lost in here once." Clara states, "It's not very fun, but you should see the library. It's massive! It has to be the biggest library in the universe."

"Mm, no." The Doctor corrects, "There's a library planet, but it got infested with Vashta Nerada, so we are not going there. Been there, done that, never ever ever again."

I look at him strangly, "Vashta what?"

"Vashta Nervada, the pirhannas of the air. They reside in shadows and the dark, they like to eat people. It's what's in the dark. It's what's always in the dark, you don't let your shadows cross even for an instant, because then you get infected and you die." the Doctor explains.

"Well, that's fantastic, I'm never going to be able to step foot in the dark ever again." Clara mumbles.

"It's where he lost his wife." Sherlock states.

When I look towards him, he is dismantling every piece at the console of the TARDIS.

"Oi! Hands off of my TARDIS!" the Doctor roars, making Clara jump.

"I'm reverse engineering." Sherlock answers. Smart-arse.

"Not with my TARDIS you're not!" the Doctor shouts, racing towards Sherlock, physically picking him up and moving him away from the console.

Sherlock looks at him stunned.

"Overprotective much?" I whisper to Clara.

"Oh, just a tad. It gets worse." she replies.

The Doctor strokes the centre column, "Aw, did Mr. Holmes hurt you? Don't worry old girl, we'll get you fixed right back up and we can pretend that nothing happened."

I gawp at the scene being laid out in front of me. "Is he consoling the-"

"Yep." Clara answers.

"Come on John, you can tell that Clara is annoyed by this. The crossed arms and the defensive posture. The pouty lip, she doesn't enjoy viewing for the Doctor's attention with an inanimate object." Sherlock informs.

"The TARDIS is very much an animate object! She is alive, she has a heart, and emotions." the Doctor says.

"It's alive?" I ask.

"Why did you ask that?" Clara moans, slumping down against the wall she was leaning on. She sits down, "Here we go."

"Well you see the TARDIS isn't a machine that's been built, it is very much alive. You see my people, the Time Lords, grow TARDIS'..." the Doctor began, explaining everything about the history of TARDIS', where they come from, how they work. I just tuned it out, Sherlock was fascinated though. With his big puppy eyes and enormous brain, he was trying to absorb every single word that came out of the Doctor's mouth. This was the first person that Sherlock treated as an equal or higher, isn't that just fascinating.

I look at Clara, she's just admiring the Doctor but other than that she looks like she's about to fall asleep and I just might to the same.

"Sherlock! John!" someone calls from outside, "I made you and your friends a nice cuppa!"

"Mrs. Hudson…" Sherlock groans.

I exit the TARDIS after Sherlock.

"What were you too boys getting up to in there? I hope I'm not intruding." Mrs. Hudson says.

I shake my head, "Why does everyone seem to think that we are together?! For anyone who cares, I AM NOT GAY!"

"That's what you think." Sherlock whispers in my ear as he passes by to grab the tray of tea from Mrs. Hudson.

I roll my eyes.

"That will be all, thank you Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock dismisses her, handing me a cup of tea.

"If you put sugar in it so help me -" I begin.

"I didn't."

"Sherlock, I'm not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson says as she exits.

The Doctor and Clara step out the TARDIS.

I clear my throat, "Um, Doctor."

"Mm?" he asks, almost in a dream like state.

"You've got a little lipstick on your face." I finish.

The Doctor promptly runs to the bathroom, and I hear running water.

I look at Clara, as she shuffles her feet.

"Well it is a snog box!" she shouts, before running back in clearly embarrassed.


	7. 221C Baker Street

**AN: Hey guys, here is the missed update from Saturday. Please review, I like to read your thoughts and I need some ideas on how to incorporate Mycroft. All suggestions welcome! Enjoy! Is anyone else really excited for the Doctor Who premiere? I am literally counting down the days. I'm having a party with fish fingers (cookies) and custard and jammie dodgers fresh from Scotland! **

Chapter Seven - 221C Baker Street

_Sherlock Holmes_

I sit across from John; Clara and the Doctor are both sitting on the floor. The Doctor keeps glancing at her, obviously since he just kissed her, he is wondering what she thought and whether she would be interested in going out with him or sleeping with him. Clara is looking down at her toes, clearly embarrassed about being caught kissing the Doctor but you can tell by her slightly annoyed expression that she is angry that the Doctor hasn't talked to her since the kiss. John is looking at me expectantly, waiting for me to say something either rude, or intelligent. I am unmoving like a statue, trying to absorb everything that I have seen in the last hour and make sense of it.

There is also an extremely loud awkward silence. No one is moving, no one is drinking their tea, everyone is breathing quietly.

"Can someone start a conversation please?" I demand as I lean back in my chair and raise my tea cup to my mouth.

They look at me in surprise, their expressions say "But Sherlock we just want to sit quietly and enjoy your brilliance." Well I might have added that last part.

Clara opens her mouth to talk and snaps it shut again clearly deciding what she was about to say was not appropriate for this moment in time.

The Doctor is staring at Clara, like the high school nerd looking lovingly at the popular cheerleader. He too opens his mouth to say something and closes it changing his mind.

"Are you two just going to sit there like goldfish opening and closing your mouths, or are you going to start conversing?" I ask.

"Sherlock, can I have a word?" John requests.

"Sure, you can have a thousand if you wish." I reply.

"I meant in have a conversation." John says.

"Isn't that what we are doing?" I question.

"No, Sherlock." John begins, "Well, yes, we are having a conversation but I meant about something else."

"Well you can change the topic if you wish." I study Clara and the Doctor, each time someone talks their head swings over to look at them. It's like a game of tennis, but with words instead of a ball.

"Sherlock, you idiot, I meant can we have a chat in private?" John inquires.

"Oh." I say, "Do you mean now?"

"Yes I mean now Sherlock!" John shouts angrily.

"Fine, fine." I put my cup on the saucer and the saucer on my side of the table before I stand. I turn to Clara and the Doctor, "You too, I know that you both are feeling awkward about kissing, but Doctor you have stuff to say to Clara and she's upset that you're not saying it. So, do what people do best and talk about your sappy emotions, but only when I'm not in the room."

I follow John out of the living room into the kitchen and close the door behind me.

"What are we going to do with them Sherlock?" John questions.

"Well, I was thinking that once we get them to sort out their emotions, we could go to the pub across the street and get a drink." I reply.

"Why would we do that?"

"So that after they drink too much we can put them back in the TARDIS, send them home and make them think it was just a dream."

"How do you plan on sending them home?" John asks as he leans on the counter angling his body unconsciously towards me.

"Press some buttons, pull some levers, twist some knobs and get out of the TARDIS before it takes off."

"You know how to fly the TARDIS?" John scoffs disbelievingly.

"Yes." I lie.

John raises an eyebrow at me.

"Okay no, but it's only space technology from the future. How hard could it be?"

John laughs sarcastically, "Do you hear yourself Sherlock? It's space technology from the future, it's going to be hard!"

"Well what do you think that we should do with them?"

John runs a hand through his hair, combing through it slightly, "We could rent out a space to them?"

"You mean half of our apartment?"

"Yes, that could work." John adjusts the collar of his sweater so that it's straight.

"Where would you sleep?" I ask.

"Who said that I'm giving up my room?!"

"I did. Now where is it that you are planning on sleeping?"

"I don't know maybe on the couch."

"You could sleep in my room." I suggest as John bends down to tie his shoelace. "Would you stop grooming yourself! You're like a male bird preening your feathers for display."

John blushes and stands, "I am not a bird Sherlock, why on Earth would you make that comparison?"

"Like I said," I repeat, "You keep grooming yourself like you're trying to impress someone."

"I'm not though."

"221C."

"What?"

"We could get Mrs. Hudson to rent them out 221C Baker Street."

John leans towards me, "I don't think that they have any money."

"Money?" the Doctor asks as he enters the kitchen, "Oh me and Clara have plenty of money, an infinite supply actually. Sorry to interrupt, I was just getting some more tea."

John steps away from the counter, "The kettle's on your right."

"Thank you." the Doctor says cheerily.

John moves to stand beside me leaning against the counter, "Sorted their stuff out then?"

"Yep." I reply.

The Doctor screeches as he reaches into the jar with the tea bags. "Why is there a eyeball in here?"

"I was testing to see if tea leaves had any effect on the colour of an eye after death." I explain, "Do not move it."

"I wasn't planning to." the Doctor says scrunching up his face with a look of disgust.

"How would you two like to rent out apartment 221C?" John asks.

"We can just stay in the TARDIS." the Doctor replies.

"No, no. We insist that you have somewhere proper to stay." I state.

"Okay, I guess." the Doctor decides.

"Fantastic! I'll go tell Mrs. Hudson and we can get you moved in this evening." John exclaims.

"Alright then! I heard that you wanted to hit the pub." the Doctor begins, "Drinks for everyone on me!"


	8. Little Chat

Chapter Eight - Little Chat

_Clara Owsin Oswald_

"So there was this one time," the Doctor slurred at John, "where me an' Clara ended up at my grave in the future. The wa' this really ba' guy there who tried to kills me by jumpin' in ma time stream an' killin' me a' all these points in ma life. But Coo jumps into the stream after him, she explodeded into a million different pieces and saved me times and times again."

I shake my head at the Doctor, he had had four shots of vodka, two glasses of wine and was working on his third bottle of beer. I on the other hand had had nothing. If I even came remotely close to drinking as much as he had, I would be unconscious on the floor. The TIme Lord drinking tolerance must be pretty high.

"How's she alive?" John asks, with a slight slur in his speech. He too had been drinking heavily.

"Wells, I jumps in after her and carried her out of the wibbly wobbly time streamy thing." the Doctor answers as he takes another sip of beer.

I distinctly remember him not liking alcohol, the idiot must have drunk so much that he can't feel his taste buds.

"If you jumped into your own time stream wouldn't you have made it collapse?" Sherlock queries, he had chosen to remain sober as well.

"Yeps. But we gots out in the nick of time." the Doctor replies.

I fold my arms, I am not impressed with the Doctor, a genius alien, drunk.

"Bartender!" the Doctor calls as he bangs his empty beer on the table.

The man standing behind the bar hesitantly walks over, "Yes sir?"

"2 beers, one whisky and one spiked peach lemonade." the Doctor orders.

"Coming right up sir."

"You'll thanks me for the whisky Sherly, I've heard that it's really great here." the Doctor says to Sherlock.

"I'm not drinking." Sherlock replies, unphased by the Doctor's obvious drunkenness.

"Yes you are." John states.

"No I am not."

"Ew, whisky? That's the eleventh most disgusting thing ever invented." I say.

"Thanks for your input Clars, but that's wha' I got Sherly." the Doctor responds.

The tray of drinks is plunked down in front of us, the Doctor and John eagerly grabbing their next bottle.

"I'm not drinking Doctor." Sherlock repeats.

John picks up Sherlock's whisky and holds it out to him. "Drink."

"No."

"Drink, or I'll make you."

"What are you going to do, toss it down my throat?"

John stood up and took Sherlock's face between his hands, squeezing his mouth open. "I'm a doctor Sherlock, I know how to make people take their medicine." With that he poured the entire shot into Sherlock's mouth and snapped it shut.

"You can't make him swallow." I inform John as he claps a hand over Sherlock's mouth to stop him spitting it out.

"He'll do it himself." the Doctor replies.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at John and swallowed.

"Now, Sherlock would you like another drink?" John asks.

"No, I am not bloody drinking!" Sherlock shouts angrily.

John pours the spiked peach lemonade into Sherlock's mouth and held him until he swallowed.

I could practically see Sherlock getting more and more drunk.

"Clars, do yous wants a drink?" the Doctor asks as he beckons over the bartender.

"Just water please." I answer.

*Horizontal line*

John had managed to get Sherlock drunk. Fan-bloody-tastic.

"Clars," Sherlock slurs, "Calls us a cab…"

Ah, the genius reduced to a idiot by alcohol, what a classic.

I pull out my phone and oblige. I look at the Doctor, he had passed out. "Do I call him an ambulance?"

"That's stupid," John begins.

"Yeah Clara!" Sherlock agrees cutting John off, "He be a Time Lord, if they do a full body scan, they'll see that he's got two hearts."

The bartender walks over, "The bill madam."

It falls to the table before me and I nearly faint when I see the price.

"Five hundred bloody pounds worth of alcohol!" I screech. "How am I supposed to pay for that?!"

"The Doctor has money." John says as he struggles to stand up.

"If you haven't bloody noticed, THE DOCTOR IS UNCONSCIOUS!" I shout.

"Having trouble with the bill ma'am?" the bartender asks with a sarcastic smile.

"No." I squeak.

"Well if you don't pay the bill, I can't let you guys leave." the bartender continues.

I frantically shake the Doctor's shoulders, calling his name in an attempt to wake him up. The only response is loud snoring.

I fall back into my chair, arms crossed. "Men." I scoff.

"How are you going to pay ma'am?" the bartender asks, "Cash, cheque, credit, or debit?"

"I don't have any money."

He smiles wickedly, "There are other methods of payment."

I slap him across the face, much to his surprise. Sherlock groans and John cheers.

The bartender clutches his cheek and glares at me angrily. "You're going to regret that ma'am." He reaches for the phone. "I'm calling the police. You had your opportunity, now you're going to rot in prison."

An umbrella appears, holding the bartender's outstretched hand against the table. Nervously, my eyes follow the length of the umbrella to the hand that is holding it, up the arm and to the face. A man in a suit, wearing an overcoat has come to my rescue.

He holds his double chin in the air defiantly. "You will not be doing such a thing."

"I-I-I will, because she assaulted me and would not pay her bill." the bartender stutters.

The stranger reaches into his coat pocket, "I will pay the bill for this young lady and her gentlemen friends."

"She still assaulted me sir. It is my duty to report her to British authorities, so that she can be arrested and cause no more havoc."

"I am British authority." the man says with a smile.

"Well, well you should arrest her sir."

"Oh stop your sniveling," the man spits angrily. "You started the whole scenario by suggesting that she performs inappropriate acts with you in place of payment. Being the independent woman that she is, she found it offensive resulting in her giving you a good smack across the face. I can tell that by your left sleeve that you are an internet porn addict and by your shoes a rapist. Now, kind sir. Unless you want to be arrested and sent to prison I suggest that you step away from the phone."

The bartender cowers backwards and steps away from the phone.

The man clears his throat. "Cheque please."

Sherlock stands up, leaning on John, and causes John's legs to collapse out from under him. "We don't need your money."

"It's not mine Sherlock, it's the government's." the man replies.

"Go home Mycroft." John spits clawing his way up the side of Sherlock.

"You know him?" I question, still too panicked to think rationally.

The Doctor lifts his head, "Brothers." Before he relapses into unconsciousness.

"Quite right, now if you would move out of the way ma'am, I would like to pay your bill." Mycroft says as he squeezes his way in between me and the Doctor.

A taxi pulls up outside, and with Mycroft's help I carry the Doctor into the backseat. Sherlock and John stumble after us, hitting their heads on the roof of the taxi when they forget to duck.

The engine starts and I count the money in my purse, fifty pounds. That should be enough to get us back to Baker Street.

"Where to?" the driver asks in a scruffy voice.

"221B Baker Street." Mycroft answers before I have the opportunity to open my mouth.

The driver nods and accelerates.

"I am unaccustomed to taking a cab." Mycroft states as we turn the corner and he is thrown sideways into Sherlock. I am happy I'm sitting on one of the front seats all by myself, that way when the inevitable vomiting occurs it won't be on me.

"It's 'cause you show up everywhere with a bloody limo." John whines as he too gently leans into Sherlock.

I quirk an eyebrow at him, we are driving straight.

"We didn't need your help Mycroft." Sherlock growls unconvincingly.

"Ah, brother of mine, if I had not helped where would you be by now?" Mycroft queries.

"The back of a police car." I answer. Sherlock is too drunk to answer any questions, however he is sober enough to start ranting about how he is independent and doesn't need the help of his older brother. Which to my annoyance he does, all the way to Baker Street.

Sherlock struggles to put the key on the lock, and when he pushes the door open, falls onto the floor.

I help him up and bring him to his room, throwing him into the bed. "Goodnight Sherlock."

The only response is snores.

As I exit his room, John walks into me. He pushes open the door to Sherlock's room.

"'Night Clars." John says.

I am about to tell him that his room is upstairs but decide the better of it. He'll figure it out in the morning.

My name is called by a very drunk Doctor from downstairs. I peek around the corner and see Mycroft struggling to keep the Doctor upright and get him to a bedroom.

"Clars, would you's come to bed with me?" he asks.

I laugh at him and direct him to John's empty room. "To bed."

"But Clars." the Doctor whines.

I shake my head and close the door, blocking it with a chair from the outside.

A sigh, slumping against the door utterly exhausted. Mycroft leans against the wall at the end of the hallway spinning his umbrella in the air.

"I think that we need to have a little chat, Miss. Oswald."


	9. Deductions II

**AN: Hey guys it me, the author. I am so sorry I haven't updated in like forever but you know school and work and trying to write your own novel and other stuff takes up a lot of time. I am facing by a big issue because I love writing this FF but I don't know if you guys like it because I am not getting any reviews. I need to know whether is worth me spending time on this FF or whether I can solely work on my other one. I love you guys but I desperately need your reviews. Also I got a phone. With google drive. So now I can write fanfiction on the go (WOO HOO). That means that I've also read a lot. I have no life outside of this website… I hope that you guys enjoy!**

Chapter Nine - Deductions II

_A Really Tired Clara Oswin Oswald_

I throw myself into Sherlock's chair, slumping in my tiredness against the rear cushion. The leather was so soft, I could just fall asleep right here.

"Miss Oswald." a voice states yanking me into consciousness. I grumble and sit up, today has been a very long day and I just want to go to sleep.

I eye Sherlock's brother distastefully, "I was just about to fall asleep."

"I'm aware. That's why I woke you." he replies with a smirk.

I shot him a dirty look, "What did you want to talk about Mycroft?"

He looks out the corner of his eye at the blue box in the corner. "I think you know."

"Why should I tell you?"

"Well, you told Sherlock, which was probably the biggest mistake you will ever make because he's going to try and make you use the machine to do whatever he wants."

I scoff, "Well that's fine and dandy but the TARDIS is stranded, it can't move something about rift energy blah, blah, slipped through the void blah, blah, blah, and it's out of power. So whatever Sherlock wants to do cannot happen until Mr. Drunk upstairs figures out how to fix it."

"You love him don't you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You are in love with him. I can tell by your dilated pupils. When you talk about him they swell up to cover almost your entire eye, a sign of attraction. Well, lust, but that's still a type of attraction. You obviously just admitted your feelings to each other by the way that he coos over you. Or did Sherlock admit them for you? Messy hair, a sure demonstration of being stressed, you run your fingers through your hair when you are stressed which stops it from getting knotted but makes it poofy and frizzy. Stressed because of a long frantic day. I conceive that it would likely be from tonight at the bar but based on the volume of your hair it probably started prior to that. Perhaps when your ship crashed, yes that would cause a lot of stress. Sherlock probably gave you a lot of anxiety because my little brother has no idea how to control himself. Ah, but the smeared lipstick also show that it's relationship issues - you and the Doctor had your first kiss and obviously several after that but is it that your stress is generated from relationship issues. Very stressed, you are used to hit however, given that you are a teacher. Analytical eyes with a soft, caring personality. Takes good care of children, you were a nanny before you were employed," his eyes scan over me again. "at Coal Hill Secondary School. You have red pen smeared on your right hand, clearly you are right handed and that the red ink comes from marking tests. You haven't been travelling with the Doctor very long, only a couple of weeks to the world but to you in this 'TARDIS' it has obviously been longer. Going on the length of your hair I would estimate that you have been travelling for about five months. Impressive, you have managed to hide your developing feeling for that long? No, you've been giving him clear signs but he is too oblivious to see it. You should have just came out with it and told him, save you the stress and the curls." he clears his throat looking at me expectantly, "Now that you've heard about you, would you like to hear about me?"

I jump out of my seat running to the hallway mirror to fix my hair. I look at my reflection with narrowed eyes, "Damn, it is frizzy."

"The powers of observation." Mycroft says in a pleased voice. Oh, I could slap him… but after all he's Sherlock's brother, he is apparently the British government and after what he did tonight it would be rude.

I went back through to the living room and threw myself down angrily on Sherlock's chair nearly knocking it over. "Go."

"Go what?"

"Go and tell me about yourself."

"It would be go ahead and tell me about yourself."

I glared at him threateningly. Do not mess with me when I am tired, I am apparently very scary.

"Okay, fine. I get that you are tired but you don't need to take it out on me."

"Why the bloody hell not? You're the one who is keeping me up!" I cry angrily.

"True, true but the sooner we get this over the better. I need to be out of here before Sherlock wakes up. He won't like me in his house while he is sleeping."

I roll my eyes and gesture for him to get on with it. I yawn at him, not bothering to cover my mouth for the jerk keeping me awake.

"My name is Mycroft Holmes."

"Hello Mycroft," I say and giggle. He doesn't get it, I'm not surprised.

"I occupy a minor role in the British government, and I need someone to watch over Sherlock Holmes for me."

"Why?"

"Let's just say that I messed up."

I scoff dramatically, "You messed up. You're kidding right, you're as smart -"

"Smarter," Mycroft interrupts.

I narrow my eyes at him and continue, "As smart as Sherlock Holmes. How could you mess up?"

"I said something that shouldn't be said."

"Oh, like what?"

"I told his archenemy everything about him."

"Well that's stupid." I say bluntly.

"I am very aware, which is why I need someone to look for to look after him."

"No."

"I can offer you a large sum of money. Every month, I'll pay you."

"Ha, that's very amusing! You think that I'm going to sell your brother out to you because your going to pay me?"

"That's what I was hoping…"

I shake my head, a man who calls himself a genius is more moronic than the very drunken Doctor. "Two reasons. Reason one, the Doctor has an infinite source of money thanks to his sonic screwdriver on the bank machine and he also has a money printing machine in the basement of the TARDIS. Well, the second part is a bit of a lie, if he does have a money printing machine he wouldn't tell me about it because I would spend it all on shoes. Anyway reason two, I'm not a bad person. I don't know who you think I am but if you believe that I'm the type of person who spies on people for money, you disgust me."

I stand up to leave and he quickly blocks my path to an exit. "That's not how I meant to you to take it."

"Oh of course a sociopath such as yourself wouldn't realize that they are being rude when they bribe someone with money so that they can stalk their bloody brother! You do know that there is this magical invention created in the 1900s called the telephone?! It wouldn't kill you to use it."

"Ah yes, Alexander Grahm bell, but the telephone was invented in the late nineteen century, 1876 to be precise."

"COULD YOU STOP BLOODY CORRECTING ME EVERY TWO MINUTES?!" I screech angrily.

I hear someone moan and fall out a bed in the other room. Great now I have to go and deal with an confused and likely angry drunk male on no sleep.

I push past Mycroft to find the source of the noise, the Doctor.

"Clara." He calls as he drags himself across the floor on his belly.

I stand in the doorway smirking. If I could find my cellphone I would so record this, blackmail.

Mycroft sneaks behind me and taps on my shoulder causing me to jump. He holds out an iPhone out to me. I smile, he was gradually making up for pissing me off. I begin recording the Doctor in his drunken stupor.

"Clara, will you love me forever?" He begs at my feet, eyes wide in the dark.

I snicker, "Not in this state."

"Clara Oswin Oswald. My coo. I -"

Then he barfs all over my new shoes.


End file.
